The descent from the Temple of Echoes felt longer than the journey up. The mist clung stubbornly to the mountain, but the oppressive weight of it had lessened, as though the air itself had relaxed with the Shard now in their possession. Yet, despite the relative calm, an uneasy silence hung over the group.
Elara kept the Shard wrapped in a thick cloth, hidden from view, but its dark pulse thrummed steadily against her side. It felt heavier with each step, as though it was growing, feeding on something unseen. She glanced down at her hand, the cuts from the Shard still raw, the skin faintly tinged with a strange dark glow. She said nothing, but the sensation unnerved her. Arian noticed her unease but said nothing as they walked.